


Angel Touch

by oooknuk



Series: Angels and Devils [1]
Category: Angel: the Series, due South
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 22:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oooknuk/pseuds/oooknuk
Summary: A lonely Mountie meets a grieving vampire.





	Angel Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters you recognize will belong to Alliance or to Joss Whedon. No infringement of copyright intended. Not for profit. 
> 
> Warnings: violence , m/m, language. 
> 
> Note: This is Alex's fault. This is set just after the Due South episode, 'Good for the Soul', and immediately after the Angel episode, 'Hero'. And yes, I'm aware that there is actually a two year gap between the events - so call it an AU and just read the thing, will ya? 
> 
> Thanks to Alex and Elizabeth for beta'ing and Tiggy for the read-through.

**[Angel]**

I was restless that Friday night - my basement seemed too close, too... dead. Well, duh, as Buffy would say.  I guess I'd been waiting subconsciously for Doyle to nag me about going out so I could resist and get on with my brooding act again - and ... it didn't happen. Obviously.  Doyle was dead. But he would have been proud of me. I found someone to help all by myself.

Vamp bait, I thought, the second I saw him. I could feel the pull, knowing how good he would be. We'll eat anyone, but there's something about corrupting the good, the innocent, that makes their blood taste like the finest wine. And this guy was Chateau Lafitte, no question. Sitting there in ironed jeans, spotless hiking boots and probably the only starched flannel shirt in the world, that damn look of his - that purity - was like a beacon. I had to get him out of there.

"Hi there," I said, sitting down next to him on the bench.

"Hello," he said simply, unworried that a total stranger had entered his space. Now I was a little closer, I could see how he might think he was okay. He was about my height, his shirt not hiding the fact he was pretty solid under it. But with that wide-open look of his - he may as well have had a sign saying 'Free Buffet' painted on him.

"Spend a lot of time sitting in dark places?"

"It's a nice park."

Oh , sure. If you closed your eyes and held your nose it was.  The accent was odd. "You're not from around here."

"Well, no, I'm Canadian. From the North West Territories."

"You a tourist?"

He gave a little chuckle, a sort of prim, patient sound, like he got asked this a lot. "No, I'm on secondment here from my posting in Chicago."

"You live in Chicago?"

"I'm a liaison at the Canadian Consulate. Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP." He held out a hand, and I shook it, shaking my head mentally. Vamp food. You can't go shaking strangers' hands in this town.

"I'm Angel."

"Nice to meet you, Angel," he said politely.

"So what's a Mountie doing in Chicago - or LA for that matter?"

"Well, I first came to Chicago on the trail of my father's killer and remained. And the reason why I'm here in Los Angeles is that I recently annoyed a gentleman there by the name of Warfield and it was thought prudent that I left town for a few weeks until things settled down."

Did he always spill this much information on a two second acquaintance? "Why didn't they send you back to Canada?"

For the first time, the gentle smile faltered. "That wasn't an option."

Another exile. And a dead one if we didn't get out of here.

"Constable..."

"Call me Fraser - or Ben, or Benton, please."

"OK ... Ben. You being a stranger here, you probably don't realize that this is not a great place to be sitting at night. You might want to get back to your hotel. You really don't want to be here much longer."

"I appreciate your concern, Angel, but I can look after myself." I could see a faint mark on his cheek like a healing graze and a nasty scab on the corner of his mouth.

"Looks to me like you already did," I said, pointing to the mouth injury.

He touched it. "Oh, this. This is courtesy of Mr. Warfield. But I assure you, I do this quite often in Chicago."

Do what? Get beat up or sit in rundown city parks? Didn't matter. "This isn't Chicago, and you don't know what we've got here." He looked at me with interest, but no anxiety. Damn, how stupid could a Mountie be? I mean, they're like cops or something - didn't they have bad guys in Canada? "Ben, I know we just met, but I'd hate to see something happen to you. Where are you staying?"

He named a hotel five miles from here. "You got a taxi from there?"

"No, I walked." I stared. No one walks in LA. "I needed the exercise after spending all week indoors."

Now I did shake my head, wondering how he'd lived this long. "I really think it would be a good idea if we got you back to your hotel. Just trust me on this."

To my relief, he stood. "As you seem so adamant, I'll take your advice, Angel. It's time I was getting back anyway."

Now he was upright, I could see he was a couple of inches shorter than me, and more compact, not so broad in the chest. But he had a long swinging stride which meant we covered ground fast. He was inclined to chat but it didn't slow us down, so I didn't mind.

"Are you an actor, Angel? So many people I meet here seem to be."

Something about him invited honesty. I know, I  know - vamp bait. "No. I, uh, help people. Like an investigator ... unofficial."

"So you're a guardian angel then." He was amused by his joke, and I smiled. Not the first person to say it, but from anyone else,  it might be a little cheesy. From him, it just sounded ... nice.

"What do you do in Chicago? A consulate - that means paperwork, right?"

"There is a certain necessary amount of paperwork, yes, but I have to admit the liaison work I carry out with the Chicago Police Department affords me a great deal of interest and excitement."

"Hold on - you work with the American police?"

"It's, uh, complicated." For the first time he seemed less than open. "I work as an unofficial partner to a detective in the Violent Crimes department - a Ray Vecchio."

His voice softened as he said the name - he probably didn't even realize how much he revealed. I didn't get a chance to ask him about it because we were ambushed then. Ten vamps, carrying knives, and they homed in on Ben like I knew they would. Man, that guy could fight - for a while there, we had them pretty much where we wanted them. But one vampire and one Mountie were never going to be a match for ten hungry demons, and he went down under four of them. I had to get him out. I tossed two of them, staked one and the other backed off when I showed myself. I picked him up and slung him over my shoulder, hoping he didn't have internal injuries. Even so, it was better than him being a meal. I ran, knowing they were going to come after us. We had to get under cover - and the closest place was mine. I had to put him down once behind some trash cans - they ran past us, but they would be back. He looked bad - his shirt was slashed, and there was blood showing through the holes. I couldn't risk getting him to the hospital - not yet. My place was just a few hundred yards away and I managed to get him inside.

We were safe - they wouldn't find us here. But now that I could look at the man whose life I'd saved . I suddenly felt afraid. He did not look good. I didn't hesitate - I put him on my bed and stripped him. He was starting to groan a little, real quiet - there was blood everywhere, and the smell.... Knowing what it would taste like if I just.... The vamps had hit him good, but I could see they had also made some older stuff worse. Looked like he had been beaten up pretty bad less than two weeks ago. New bruising overlay purple tracks of older, deep, wide marks that looked like he'd been hit by a pile of falling lumber. Or someone carrying one piece of lumber wielded with serious intent to maim. His ribs were strapped but the bandage had been sliced along with the shirt.

The cuts were long but shallow and I could ignore them for the moment - they had been inflicted to torment, not kill. I did a finger tip inventory from his head down and things didn't look quite so bad as I had first thought. A lump on his head, bleeding. It had knocked him out, but now he was waking so maybe that was okay. Bruising all the way down his chest, and over the kidneys - they'd kicked him good. The groan when I pressed his ribs carefully, told me they were probably cracked - didn't feel broken - but whether from this attack or the previous one, I couldn't tell. Pelvis - fuck. Groin. Penis. Balls. Perfect and sitting in full black hair. Narrow hips, strong legs. Horse-riding legs. Bruised, one knee swollen. A beautiful man. Trust me on this - you get to be two hundred years plus old and you see a lot of naked bodies. And he was ... the best thing I'd seen since... the best man I'd seen in a hundred years.

He was starting to wake up. In pain. I was almost sure there was nothing I couldn't handle with the first aid kit I had - it was more comprehensive than some doctors had in their surgeries. It had to be - patching up ... Doyle, and myself sometimes... and Buffy of course, before that. I was good at fixing up injuries for the same reason. The stuff was in the bathroom - I got what I needed and turned to go out, only to be stopped by an old guy standing there in a red uniform. "Who are you, and how did you get in here?"

"I'm Benton's father - and you know how I got in here."

Yeah - I did. He was a ghost. A pissed off ghost by the look of him.  "What do you want?"

"He doesn't need your help. Keep your hands off him, vampire."

Great - a prejudiced ghost. "Look, mister, Ben's hurt. I'm not trying to harm him - he needs help."

"You just want to get your hands on him - you're like that other one."

"Another vampire?"

"Another **_man_** \- that Yank partner of his. Always trying to touch him. I know what he wants. He can't give Benton a future, and neither can you, so leave him be."

A future was pretty much the last thing I could offer anyone but this old guy was getting way ahead of himself. I decided to just get on with it, and walked through him - knew that would annoy him. Nothing pisses off the dead more than rudeness from the undead. He vanished.

Ben was trying - and failing - to sit up. "Hold it, Ben. Lie still - you got some banged up ribs there, and I don't know what else."

"Those ... are old injuries ... Angel." He lay back - probably dizzy from the hit on the head.

"How do you feel?" I asked as I laid out the first aid gear, and discreetly pulled a sheet up over his legs and hips. I didn't need the distraction or being accused by his dad of being a Peeping Tom.

"Been better." He lay with his eyes closed, mouth tight. I decided to just get on with cleaning the cuts and bandaging his ribs and his knee. Knee ... I needed an ice pack. I left him and went to the kitchen. His dad was back.

"I don't know what your problem is, but I can't take your son outside yet so back off."

"Got something you're feeling guilty about?"

You don't know the half of it, I thought. "Does Ben know you do this?"

"Oh yes, we talk all the time. Well, I talk, he doesn't listen. Same as when I was alive."

"So me not listening to you isn't going to be much of a surprise to you, is it."

He stepped aside before I could walk through him again. Ben's eyes were open. "Who were you talking to, Angel?"

I put the ice pack on his knee which made him wince a little, and lifted the leg onto a pillow. "No one, Ben. Relax."

"That's no way to talk," the ghost complained.

"Go away, dad," I heard Ben mutter under his breath, his eyes closed.

"Yeah, good idea," I added.

Ben's eyes opened wide in shock. "You can see him?"

"Yeah," I said, staring right at the old Mountie. "You have to put up with him being around all the time?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I'm assuming you can see him because you're a vampire?"

I looked at him, wondering who the hell I had just brought into my home, but he could see I was worried. "I'm sorry - he told me. You are, aren't you? Or do you prefer another term? I don't wish to cause offense. You don't breathe, you have no heart beat - the lack of mirrors in your bedroom might be because of an admirable want of vanity but I'm guessing you don't use them anyway."

The matter-of-fact acceptance bothered me, but I needed him to stay here for now. "Ben - you're safe. I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh, I know that," he said serenely, and I wondered just how big a hit to the head he'd taken. "If you'd wanted to kill me, I doubt you would have brought me here and bloodied up your bed. Speaking of which ..."

"Does anyone remember I'm still here?" his father said with irritation.

Ben turned his head, wincing a little. "Yes, Dad, but I am a guest in Angel's home. Unlike yourself. It is simply polite to pay attention to the host. Would you mind....?" He made a 'buzz off' motion with his hands.

"All right, Benton. But I warn you, he's up to no good." The ghost vanished, to Ben's obvious relief.

"I apologize for him. He's gotten worse since he died."

I decided the best way to handle this was just be like him and take everything in my stride. "Most people do. You aren't worried by the fact I'm a vampire?"

He turned the bluest eyes to me I can ever remember seeing and smiled, and my non-beating heart clamped up. "No, Angel. Should I be?"

That trust again. The sureness that it would be justified. I knew it would be - but how did he?

I started to clean the cuts, which must have stung but he didn't say a word, then put dressings over them. I lifted back the sheet so I could wrap his knee and he looked down, realizing for the first time that he was naked - and he blushed. I swear, a fully grown man, a Mountie, blushed. "Uh ... Angel, I appear to be wearing no clothes."

"They were covered in blood. I'll lend you some shorts." I found a pair which were a little small for me, and helped him on with them. He looked more relaxed once he was covered, and temptation was removed at least. I pretended this was all in a night's work for me, and strapped his knee. It had taken a solid kick, and of all his injuries, this was the only one that really needed medical attention - unless his concussion was worse than I thought. But it could wait, like the rest of it.

He looked pretty tired when I was done.  I couldn't offer him any aspirin - Doyle had wiped me out finally with his last hangover - but he didn't ask either. "I should wake you up every two hours," I said.

He nodded and I could see he regretted it. "That would be wise. But I'm sorry for the inconvenience - I'm putting you out of your bed, and then you'll have to wake up too. Maybe I should try and get back to the hotel."

He actually started to get up, grunting with the pain but I pushed him back, which didn't take much effort. "No - those people will be there. I know. It's not safe. You'll have to wait until dawn." I could take on the rest of the vamps myself, but I wasn't going to expose him to risk again - not for no good reason, which there wasn't.

"They were vampires? Like you?"

"Vampires, yes, but not like me. You should ..."

"How are you different, Angel? Why can you resist my blood?"

"It's complicated ..."

He wasn't going to be put off. "We appear to have time. I doubt I will sleep just at the moment. So if you'd like to tell me, I'd be curious."

Those calm eyes - you felt you could tell him anything. "Maybe you won't feel safe after I tell you."

"You're a good man, Angel. I can tell that. I trust you."

It was a knife to the gut. It had been a long, long time since people looked at me without fear in their eye - even Buffy... "I'm cursed - a gypsy clan restored my soul as punishment for my past misdeeds."

"And you help people as some sort of expiation?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Something like that. So it's not that I don't want to ... you know ..." I waved at his neck. "It's just if I do stuff like that, I can't stand the guilt."

"It's the only reason most of us are good, Angel. I see I was right to trust you."

"How do you know I'm not lying to you?"

"How do you know I'm not when I say I'm a Mountie?"

"Well, I can tell ... it's obvious."

He nodded, and I got it, but I didn't like it. Man, how had this guy lived to be thirty, thirty five? You can't go by people's looks, dammit. It was getting late and he was whacked so I told him to lie down, and get some rest. He took my hand as I reached for the light to dim it. "Thank you, Angel. I owe you my life."

"Go to sleep. I'll wake you at one o'clock."

He settled down pretty quick, and I pulled in an armchair from the living room and got a book. I had every intention of reading but my eyes kept being drawn back to the sleeping man. He wasn't entirely still - he was in pain, even if he didn't know it, and his body kept moving, trying to avoid contact with the sore points. But his face was so peaceful - how could someone living in the real world, living in Chicago, seem so untouched by life. He wasn't really - even under the bruises new and old, I'd seen several bad scars, so he was no stranger to violence. You usually don't get bullet holes in the back by accident. My visitor was intriguing. I suppose he was also a welcome distraction from the pain of the last few days. And in a way he reminded me of Doyle - he had the same coloring, the same ... there was just something .... hell, everything reminded of Doyle then, why shouldn't he?

I woke him the required number of times, asked his name, and where he thought he was. He was exhausted, and I felt bad because it got harder and harder for him to wake up and then to get back to sleep. There didn't seem to be any brain damage, but it was still within the danger period. At dawn I checked him out for the last time. The bruises had begun to flower properly, but the cuts hadn't begun to bleed again. I'd changed the ice pack a couple of times and the swelling around his knee wasn't as bad as it could be. He sure was going to hurt for a while though.

I had given some thought as to what to do with him, and the best thing really was to get him checked over at a hospital. Which meant Cordelia. Which meant listening to her explaining in detail why it was such a burden for her to come to my place on a Saturday morning, and then to her agreeing to come anyway. As she always did.

Ben was up, just, and dressed in spare clothes of mine - he'd cause a riot, and not in a good way, if he walked around in blood stained jeans and slashed up shirt - when Cordelia got there. "Angel, this really better be urgent like you said..."

Her voice died away when she saw my guest. He held out his hand politely. "Good morning, Miss Chase. Benton Fraser. Glad to meet you."

She looked at Ben, then at me, and then took his hand. I swear she thought about curtseying. "Glad to meet you, uh, Benton?"

He shook her hand and let go. She kept hers out for a while until she realized it looked kind of stupid. It was funny, watching this from the outside - I get this reaction all the time, but it was amusing seeing another guy get the 'struck dumb' treatment from Cordelia. I watched as she did the inventory, and the disappointment as she realized that none of what she saw added up to 'money'. She actually sighed. "Well, I suppose we better get you to the hospital."

"Cordelia, you wait with him, and get him to his hotel. Please?"

"Why?' she mouthed at me, just barely remembering to turn her back on Ben so he couldn't see. I made a face at her to say, 'because I asked' but to be honest, I wasn't sure why. I mean, the guy could look after himself, and all he had to do was take a taxi to his hotel when he was done.  But there was something about him that made me feel protective, and tired as I was, I really just didn't feel like fighting it. Besides, maybe some of the smart would rub off on Cordy.

He wasn't walking too good on that leg and we helped him up to the office. I tried to give Cordelia money for the taxi but he wouldn't let me. "Angel, you've done enough. I really am very grateful."

"It's okay, Ben. Look after yourself."

He smiled and gave his attention to Cordelia. "Watch your step there, Benton."

"Thank you kindly, Miss Chase." She gave him an open-mouthed look of astonishment - for a girl who's seen just about every monster going **_and_** dated Xander Harris, that was saying something.

I went to bed myself and dreamed of dark haired Canadians. Made a change.

 

* * *

Cordelia rang around two to say she'd just dropped Ben at his hotel. I asked how he was. "He's just badly bruised, they said. The broken ribs are old, and the cuts are fine. No concussion. Angel, where did you meet him? He is just so nice - it's creepy."

"I found him in a park."

"He was kind of interesting. Kept talking about caribou a lot, though. But he's OK."

"Thanks, Cordelia."  I hung up before she could start in on me again. I felt bad - I should have been there talking to her instead of dumping a stranger on her, but I just couldn't handle her grief as well as my own. Monday would be soon enough.

I decided I was done with sleep, and got dressed. It was then I realized that Ben's clothes were still here, stiff with his blood. I knew I couldn't wash them - the smell would drive me mad. But on the other hand, I couldn't just throw them away - he didn't look like the sort of guy who traveled with a lot of stuff. You probably think I was looking for an excuse to call him. I didn't need an excuse.

It took a while for him to answer the phone, and I thought he might have gone out - he seemed loopy enough to try. But he got there eventually. "Benton Fraser."

"Ben - it's me, Angel."

"Angel - I'm glad you called. I'm .... well, to tell the truth I think the pills they gave me were a little strong. I was asleep when you called."

"If this is a bad time..."

"Oh no, I was hoping you would telephone. I wanted to ask you to dinner, but I didn't have your number. Miss Chase was out of business cards - she did give me her own number but I felt awkward about using it."

I bet. "I'd love to come, Ben - but I, uh ... I'm not big on eating. Food that is. How about I meet you after you have dinner, for a drink."

"Ah, that could be a problem. I'm not 'big', as you say, on alcohol."

"Well it looks like you could either sit and watch me not eat, or I could sit and watch you not drink. What would you suggest?"

He chuckled. "I think the latter - there is always tea, after all."

We arranged to meet at eight in his room. I was surprised how eager he was to see me - but perhaps he was just being polite. I know I was just using him to distract myself, but he seemed not to mind my company. And I did need to return his clothes.

I was on time and he opened the door at the first knock. A big beaming smile, but the bruises on his face were worse than ever and he had a mean limp. "What did the doctor say about your knee?"

"Just bruised - no ligament damage. I've had worse playing hockey. The ICE treatment is really all that it needed, but they gave me some anti-inflammatory pills." He frowned. "I seemed to have acquired quite a few different medications."

"You got beat up pretty good."

"The last time was also enthusiastic, I assure you. Now what would you like to drink?"

In memory of Doyle I asked for a Scotch and he poured it, asking if I wanted ice or lemon in an easy way that was strange for a non-drinker. When I commented, he said dryly, "I may not drink, but any number of my acquaintances, not to mention visitors to the Consulate, do."

"Does Ray drink?"

"Ray Vecchio? Oh, you mean my partner Ray," and I wondered briefly if concussion had been ruled out too soon. "He does, on occasion. He doesn't drink heavily, but he does like the odd whiskey."

His eyes had gone soft as he remembered. "He's a good friend," I said.

"Yes. Yes, he surely is."

"You miss him."

"I do. I also miss my wolf, but unfortunately neither have been permitted to join me."

I asked him about his wolf, and only later realized he had successfully deflected me from talking about his partner.

"Do you work with anyone other than Miss Chase?"

"Not any more," I said shortly. He could see my expression harden - I felt my face freeze as I said it.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he said softly, and suddenly the urge to talk about Doyle was like a burning pain. I had to put it out - had to tell ** _someone._**

"I had a partner - Doyle. He was half demon, half human - looked human, but the demon half was there."

"Like the wolf in Diefenbaker."

I nodded. "Doyle was ... he was a little guy, short, and not tough, not like...." I stopped - it sounded like I was criticising the bravest man I'd ever known.

"Not like you?"

"No. But he was brave ... and ... and he died. He died to save me, Cordelia, and twenty innocent lives. He died ..." I couldn't say any more. I knew it should have been me. I knew why it couldn't be me.

He looked at me with those blue eyes and a gentle smile. "When I first came to Chicago," he said softly, in a voice like warm honey, "I met a police officer who helped me find the man who killed my father. That officer saved my life by entering a booby trapped room and pushed me out the window, thereby taking the full force of the explosion upon himself. He nearly died to save me. Then two years later, he ... uh, left and I was partnered with Ray. The first day we worked together, Ray took a bullet in the chest to save my life. Only the fact that by pure chance he was wearing a vest meant that his act of heroism did not end in his death. I have asked myself many times what I have done to deserve friends like these, and the answer is ... nothing. The question is rather what quality is in those friends that they would die to save another. It sounds like your friend Doyle had that same quality - the same bravery. He did what he thought he had to do."

"I miss him," I said quietly, knowing how weak I sounded.

"I know. That's the price of surviving."

His hand brushed mine, and I jumped, but he was only taking my glass so he could refill it. He didn't ask but he could tell I wanted it. Alcohol doesn't make me drunk, but it has a slightly relaxing effect. I took the glass from him. "Thanks. I don't usually...."

"Share your feelings?  Neither do I.  Don't you have a close friend - I mean, other than Doyle? Someone you can talk to?"

"Not any more," I said, the same way I had earlier. What was it about this guy? You just wanted to spill your guts ... "You're not some sort of demon, are you, Ben?"

That made him laugh out loud. "No," he gasped out, holding his ribs. "Not last time I looked. My former partner did say I was the world's most annoying man, and Ray calls me a freak from time to time, but I don't **_think_** I'm a demon."

His amusement was infectious, and I smiled.

"I apologize - you must think I'm rude. Why do you ask?" he said finally, still chuckling a little.

"It's just - I don't talk to people like this. I lurk, I scowl ... I don't talk. That's my thing, you know?"

"Maybe it's because we have so much in common, Angel. I'd say we're rather alike in many ways."

"Hmmm, let me see. You have blue eyes, black hair, you're a Mountie. I have brown eyes, brown hair, and I'm a vampire. Nope, the similarity escapes me." I spoke lightly, but I was afraid of what he could see in me.

"We both believe in helping others. We both have depended on our partners and it has cost them. We both know about loneliness, and pain."

"Well, there's one thing I bet we don't share."

"And what's that?" He was trying to match my light tone but somewhere along the way we had crossed a line - and we were no longer just acquaintances linked by an accident of fate.

"I don't suppose if you ever had sex with the woman you love, the world would come to an end?"

He stared at me. "You might be surprised how true that was, Angel." He was no longer even trying to pretend we were just playing around here. His face had gone pale, his eyes were wide and dark, and not just from the happy pills.  His expression urged me to elaborate.

"The curse means I would lose my soul again. Uh - that's not good, Ben. It wasn't ... not when it happened."

"And the woman you loved? Did she die?"

"No. She's alive and well, at least she was two weeks ago. We, uh, decided that we ... that is, I couldn't offer her what she needed, so I left."

"You decided. She didn't."

"Yes." His eyes hadn't left my face the entire time I'd spoken. I felt I could lose myself in them. "Your turn."

He couldn't look at me then. "It's nothing so dramatic, but you could say I also came close to losing my soul." He told me about this Victoria bitch, and now I wondered how I ever thought he was innocent. No one would be after that. But somehow he still managed to keep that big-eyed wonder about him that drew people - all right, and vampires - to him. Now I knew what it was about him that reminded me of Doyle - underneath the charm, the friendliness, was a pain so deep and wide that nothing could begin to span it. I loved Doyle more than the family I had callously murdered - and I hadn't even begun to touch the ache inside him before he died. I sensed there was more hope for Ben, and for Doyle's sake, I had to try.

"Ben you're a hell of a nice guy, and Victoria was four years ago. Haven't you grieved long enough? Don't you want to find someone else? You're not me - there's no curse, you've got a lot to offer somebody."

He laughed again, but this time it was a bitter sound. "That may be true, Angel, but I seem to have a knack of bestowing my affections upon barren ground. Last time it was a criminal, and this time..."

"Ray."

"It's that obvious?"

"Only to those who've been through it, Ben. Why don't you say something to him?"

"Because he's still in love with his ex-wife. I'm his friend and partner - it would be a violation of his trust to admit inappropriate feelings for him. It just isn't an option."

I couldn't argue with that - didn't know the guy and I had to assume Ben wasn't a complete masochist. If he said this Ray wasn't going to be interested, I suppose he knew what he was talking about. "I guess  we do have a lot in common."

"Not enough for you to get your paws all over him, vampire." Oh terrific - the parent was back.

"Dad, please. Angel's a guest..."

"He's a vampire, son! A dirty undead, blood sucking..."

"Isn't there some way to shut him up?" I asked Ben.

"We could try this," he said, and without warning I was being kissed. And not your friendly peck on the cheek thing either. This was a tonsillectomy. A nice one. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the red dressed figure disappear.

"He's gone," I managed to say.

"I know," Ben said, but he didn't stop.

I pushed him back. "Ben ... I think those pain meds are making you a little whacky."

He sat back suddenly, and looked as shocked as I was. "I'm sorry. I .... I don't know what came over me," he stuttered, white-faced.

He stood up, limped quickly to the kitchenette and began to boil some water. Displacement activity. I didn't want him to think ... I mean, I liked it, but I didn't want to take advantage of him ... I knew ... hell. "Ben," I said going up behind him, and he jumped and backed into the corner. "Take it easy! You look like... I'm not going to hurt you."

He still looked tense and unhappy. "I'm sorry ... you startled me, and I thought ... well, you would have every right after what I just did. Perhaps you should leave. I seem to have lost my manners as well as my mind."

I put my hands on his shoulders, feeling the solidness of them. "I'm not angry, Ben. Actually, it was kinda nice. But I know when you wake up in the morning, you'll regret doing it."

He pushed my hands off but without anger. "You know, what I regret every morning is **_not_** doing it. I get so **_damn_** sick of being alone, with no one touching me. Wanting Ray - wanting to be loved and touched and kissed..." He hugged his arms around himself.

Whoa. Serious meltdown here. I figured a lot of this had to do with the attack - he wasn't Superman, and there had to be a reaction to the second bad beating in as many weeks. I put my hands back on his shoulders, and pulled him close. Dammit, I was pretty sick of being alone too. All I had was a memory of two nights with Buffy, one of which she didn't even remember - could never remember since it didn't happen as far as she was concerned - and a grief shared with Cordelia. I needed to be with someone who needed me - not my muscles or my being a vampire - but me. The only person who used to need me was in Sunnydale busily trying to put me behind her. But right here, right now, was a good man, a hurting man - a beautiful man. I wanted him. I **_needed_** him.

He wasn't fighting my embrace, but he wasn't exactly enthusiastic either, and when the kettle boiled, I let him go. He turned the thing off, and spoke without looking at me. "I don't ... Angel, you don't have to do this. I really think it might be better if you left."

"Why, Ben? Can't I give you something you need?" Doyle would have been so proud of me, I was thinking.

"I really don't know what came over me, you know - I don't believe in casual sexual relations."

"I'm not your regular one night stand, Ben. You'd be doing me the favor, to tell you the truth. I ... I don't really want to be alone tonight."

He looked at me seriously "Angel - how long ago did Doyle die?"

"Three nights ago."

That shocked the hell out of him. "I'm so sorry - I had no idea. But I can keep you company without ...you know...."

I decided that if we were ever going to get anywhere I had to take charge of this. I put my arms around him, and pulled him to me again. This time he seemed more willing. "Ben," I said softly, "you're the best offer I've had in a long time. And you're damn good looking, and if you think I just want to talk to you all night, you really are whacky."

I saw him smile a little. "You sound so sure of yourself."

"Well, when you're older than the American Constitution, you know what you like. And I like you, and I'd like to have 'casual sexual relations' with you, if you'll have me."

"Yes," he said quietly. "I will. Yes, I'm going to."

"You sound as if you need convincing," I said, then I kissed him. Not as hard as he had kissed me, but with enough behind it to show him I wanted him bad. I wanted him like I wanted to drink from him, and if I couldn't taste him that way, I wanted what I could. He could ease my pain - he already had - and maybe he would get a little in return.

 

* * *

  
**[Ben]**  
I've never been kissed like that before in my life. Yes, I've kissed men and women, and some of them have been skilled, but the way Angel seemed to ... well, **_feed_** off me, the way his tongue ... I lost control over myself. Nothing mattered in the world at that moment more than the need in me to taste him, to feel his skin. A tiny part of my mind was telling me this should be stranger than it was, kissing a vampire - kissing a dead man - but he felt right, and smelled right, even if the lack of breath was odd. He wasn't Ray - wasn't a substitute for Ray in any manner at all. He was just ** _there_** and wanting me, wanting me to need him, and I just .... I just had to. I was lonely, I was tired, I was homesick. All excuses. But I'm not a Catholic, no one would ask me to justify myself (other than my father and my rather impulsive kiss had banished him for now). I was a free adult, and duty and honor didn't come into it. I wasn't really sure what Angel's motives were - whether he was trying to escape the ache of his forbidden love with the woman he mentioned, or expunge briefly the pain of losing his friend. And you know - I didn't care. I knew from the moment I saw those kind brown eyes that this was a person I could like, I could trust. And I was right. He saved my life last night. I could give myself to him and enjoy it tonight.

He forgot my injuries and so did I, but he shifted and my knee caught. "Ow!"

"I'm sorry. You're hurt, I didn't think." He backed away, but I held his shirt, uncharacteristically assertive for me.

"No - we can manage. Why don't we...?" I nodded towards the bed. He held me around the waist and was going to help me over to it but then I remembered. "Angel, could I possibly...?"

"The bathroom? Sure." He let me go and I limped in. I made a brief but thorough toilette. There was no doubt my ribs and my knee, and the long annoying cuts, kept impinging on my concentration, so I risked another dose of painkillers, hoping they wouldn't make me as sleepy as they had that afternoon. I grinned at my reflection - I suspected Angel could keep me awake if he wanted. I shook my head at the thought of what Ray would say if I told him about this - Ray has many good qualities, but among his faults is a total inability to see me as a sexual being. I suspect he actually thinks I believe babies are found under cabbage plants, and that I have no idea what genitalia are for. Or perhaps that I simply don't have any.

He was waiting on the bed, sitting fully clothed. I sat next to him and he kissed me. "Need help undressing?"

"No - but feel free." Kissing me again, he knelt in front of me and began to unbutton my shirt, sliding it off my shoulders. I lay back, knees over the edge of the bed, as he gently licked his way down my body, finding the few places not covered by bruises or bandages. He undid my belt, my waistband button, then kissed the spot just above the jeans, tonguing my navel in a way that was excruciatingly pleasurable. I'm afraid I really wasn't very dignified, but my moans seemed to please him. Angel had the most delicious smile, all the more so for its rare appearance, but it appeared then as he looked at the ecstasy on my face. As he watched me, he unzipped my jeans, then carefully pulled them and my underwear down. He'd forgotten about my boots, and had to briefly disappear to unlace them. He grabbed pants, jeans and shoes and tugged them off, tossing the lot over onto a chair in a way that should have annoyed me - but didn't. It just seemed like another intensely erotic thing for him to do.

And so I was exposed for him, as I had been the previous night. For all my imperfections, old and new, he seemed pleased, as he had the previous night, but now he made no pretense of wanting to preserve my modesty. "You really are something, Ben - are they all like you in Canada?"

"I have no idea, Angel. Do you plan on just looking?"

"No," he growled, and began to lick my stomach rather like Dief will lick a bone before he eats it. I shivered, I admit partly from a tiny twinge of fear, but mostly from anticipation. His mouth was getting closer to my erection but he avoided it. One hand gently stroked my testicles, the other he moved underneath to squeeze one buttock. He licked my thighs, and then suddenly the length of my penis which made me gasp out loud. He put his mouth over the head of it, and used his teeth gently until I wanted to shout with frustration. But he was doing all the work, so it was hardly fair for me to complain - not when every cell in my body was screaming with desire for him. Without warning his mouth closed over my penis, and he began to work it, while his hand closed over my testicles, rolling them very carefully, My back arched, hurting my ribs, but I didn't care - the pain was just another sensation in the mass of pleasure. He tugged gently at my testicles, delaying my orgasm even though everything wanted to tighten - I needed him to let me come. I realized I was saying his name over and over like a prayer but I couldn't help it - I **_needed_** him, ** _wanted_** him. My whole being centered on that warm moistness, the pressure and the suction and the feel of his mouth on me. I could no longer feel my ribs or my knee or those damn cuts - and it had nothing to do with the pills I'd taken. Moaning continuously, my testicles were finally released so I could come, and I did, hard, into his mouth which continued its devilish work on me. He kept me even as I shuddered with the aftershocks of orgasm, but then he slid up on the bed and captured my mouth, pulling me into his embrace.

I felt totally boneless. My groin still tingled as if with a faint electrical discharge and the pains and aches I had carried for weeks were gone as if they had not been. "I gather I just benefited from two hundred years of practice?"

He smiled against my mouth. "More like a hundred years of frustration."

My hands on him found his erection. "What do you want?" I whispered. It didn't matter what he answered - I would give him anything.

"You - I want you, to be in you. May I?"

For answer, I spread my legs in a truly abandoned fashion and he grinned. "You know I thought you were a virgin, Ben."

"Not since I was fifteen, Angel. But I've had a lot of practice at hiding the fact."

He sobered. "Why? Why bother?"

I sighed. Stupid of me to mention this. "Because, like you, I find it's just easier. I get enough unwanted offers, and ... oh god..." He had taken his shirt off as we were speaking and I was struck dumb. He was simply the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Ray's body was my yardstick for all that was good and desirable in the male form, but Angel ... that chest ... those arms. He seemed puzzled by my silence.

"Are all vampires like you, Angel?"

He smiled suddenly. "I have no idea, Ben." He turned around and began to take his jeans off, and I saw the elegant, rather curious tattoo on his shoulder. "That looks Celtic to me."

"That's because I'm from Ireland originally."

"You have no accent."

"Been here a long time, Ben. Even you might lose yours after a hundred years in America."

"Please don't even say that as a joke," I say with a mock grimace, hiding my real fear at such a prospect.

"I won't." He was now naked, and again I was forced into silence by the perfection of his body. It seemed so unfair that a man clearly formed for love and sensuality should be denied his soul mate. But he wasn't a man, and should have been dead over a century ago, so concepts like fairness didn't really enter into it. And I was thinking too much again.

"I'm not going to ask if you've done this before, but have you any idea how you're going to accommodate my rather battered person in your plan?"

He looked at me, scratched his head and grinned. "I'll tell you if you tell me what I can use for lube - I didn't think that far ahead."

"Ah. In the closet you'll find my uniform. On the belt is a cartridge case and in that a jar. Would you mind...?"

He extracted it, opened the lid and sniffed. "What the hell is this?"

"It's an extract made from the mucous membranes of a pregnant ... actually that's not important. What is important is that it has an emollient base - and is also good for preventing infection, not that it applies in this case."

He looked unsure. "You want me to use this?"

"Uh, I have done so in the past, and it was quite effective."

He shook his head. "You Mounties are weird, you know that?"

I could hear Ray saying 'freak' in a similar tone, and I smiled. "What's so funny?"

"You reminded me of someone just then. It's not important."

"Ray?"

"Yes - do you mind?"

"No - hell, Ben, I don't expect you to forget who you're in love with. Just don't call his name, OK? My ego is fragile."

"I wasn't - if you noticed."

"I noticed." He lay alongside me, and kissed me again. I took the open jar from him. "Just keep that away from my nose, Ben, and we'll get along fine."

I scooped out a goodly portion of the unguent and rubbed it between my fingers. He lay on his back so I could reach down and smear it over his penis, which made **_him_** moan. He was unexpectedly vocal and watching that strong face contort with pleasure was intensely pleasurable - I could feel myself harden again. I took my time stroking him but then he seized my wrist carefully. "Ben - that's not what I want."

"I know." I handed him the pot. "How do you want it?"

"Just let me," he said. He urged me to move so I was entirely on the bed, then he put one pillow under my hips, and the other under my injured knee. I saw what he was intending, and relaxed - this was comfortable, and neither of us would have be terribly athletic about things. He kissed me again, then took some of the ointment on his fingers, making a pretend face at the smell. He applied it where it needed to be, using those long fingers of his for maximum pleasure. He smiled at the noises I was making. "You know what I like most about this, Ben?"

"Uh... no.... do tell me," I managed to say, quite proud of being able to string words together. It had been so long ....

"You're not a blond."

Ah. The lady fair. "And neither are you which is good. Please ... don't stop."

He started again, and stroked my penis which was nearly as hard as it had been before. I felt rather passive, but I couldn't reach him without bending, and my ribs just wouldn't cooperate. He appeared to be enjoying himself - he seemed as hungry for touch as I was. At last he replaced his fingers with his erection and I sighed - I'm so sensitive down there, and there have been so few times when I could honorably satisfy my need. The nights I have fantasized ... but there was no need for fantasy. This was real - a strong, good man filling me, hitting the spot inside that drove me wild with delight, pumping my erection back to hardness. All my senses were filled - just watching him, eyes closed in pleasure, hard muscles working, was almost enough in itself. Almost. I called his name, urging him on, but he was silent, concentrating, feeling the moment. Good. Lose yourself, Angel, I thought. That's what this  is about. And I was thinking again. But then he thrust in a certain way and thought fled. I was just sensation again - such bliss, twice in a night. Incredibly I could feel I would come again, and I did. He smeared the semen over my stomach rhythmically, matching his thrusts and then he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting me - and as he did, he climaxed with a gasped out 'Aaahh'. He'd worked up a sweat, making his chest and face glisten, and as I watched him still licking his fingers, still gently thrusting, I thought there were few sights to match it.

He pulled out carefully, then collapsed beside me. I turned to him as best I could and brought his face to me. "Thank you. I've wanted that for so long."

He smiled. "It's been a while for me too."

He looked happier - relaxed. For all that my various aches were telling me that perhaps I hadn't been that wise, I felt better. I was sick of being careful, being wise.

He rolled so he was facing me. "I'm so tired, Ben. All I ever seem to do is be around evil and death. You're like a light in the darkness."

"And you, my friend, are like food to a starving man. You can't stop helping people, can you?"

He laughed. "Hope the powers that be count this in my favor."

"Powers that be?"

He waved a hand. "Too complicated."

"Do you want to stay?"

He looked at me seriously. "Just tonight."

"I know - but I want that. I just want to wake up for one morning and not be on my own."

"Me too."

He went to the bathroom to clean up, brought back a cloth and gently wiped me off. He also checked the dressing and the bandages on my knee. "You do this a lot," I said.

"In my line of work, yeah - people around me pick up a scratch or two."

His voice clamped up. Not just scratches, I knew we were both thinking, and I regretted bringing back the memory. I reached out and touched his arm. "Just tonight, Angel. Forget. We both need to forget."

He nodded. "It's hard, Ben."

"Just tonight. Lie with me. Be with me - no one else."

He put the cloth aside, and helped me move up the bed and under the covers. It was a new experience for me, being with someone bigger. I'm not exactly small, but Angel made me feel that way, lying across that chest of his. I couldn't help but think of how Ray would feel, lying across me, but I stamped on the thought. Tonight was Angel and me. There was plenty of time for Ray - for Buffy and Doyle and all the things which claimed our hearts and minds every day.

It was hard to get comfortable, and eventually I just had to lie flat with Angel's greater mass curled around me after a fashion. Now we had stopped moving and having sex, the medication hit me with full force. I couldn't keep my eyes open which seemed rude since he was wide awake. "Sleep, Ben. I'm not much for sleeping at night anyway."

I laughed a little at this. "No I suppose you're not," was the last thing I remember saying.

 

* * *

  
**[Angel]**  
I lay awake for a while after Ben fell asleep. Man, even half dead he was good. He seemed to hold nothing back - every thing he felt, I could see, I could feel. So like.... no, like he said. Tonight was us. I hadn't been exaggerating. I was still wondering how someone like him could even stand to be near someone like me - let alone trust me enough to let me fuck him. That was too crude a word - it wasn't making love, because we weren't... in love, I mean - but it was more than sex. It was like he let me inside his soul, not just his body. He was doing that wriggling again, so I knew he hurt. I didn't know this Ray of his - but if he ever realized what this man felt for him, I don't know how he could resist. Even the affection for a fuck buddy was more than most people show towards the ones they're married to. I played with his hair for a long time, stroking his arm. Wishing that the light he brought could stay with me somehow. Light had left my life with Buffy and darkness was my life now. But Ben had shown me there were other places to find illumination.

He slept long, and even I dozed for a few hours, waking around six. The weather forecast was for rain, so getting home wouldn't be a problem. Leaving would be - the hunger I felt for his blood before I got to know him was now a longing for his company. I wondered if his father had watched us - it would serve the old bastard right if he had. As I watched Ben sleeping, I remembered what his father had said about Ray - always wanting to touch him? Maybe Ben's love wasn't as hopeless as he thought. My thoughts were interrupted by the phone - I thought I'd better let him answer rather than try to explain what I was doing there. I did pass it to him. "Hello?" was all he could say - he wasn't awake enough for 'Benton Fraser'.

The other person said "Fraser" loud enough for me to hear, and Ben's face broke into a smile. No prizes for guessing who, then.

"Ray - what are you doing calling me so early .... well yes, I know I'm normally up, but you're not ... oh, did you get them? ... Huey said that did he? ... I'm fine, just a little sore ... yes, I did take the pills ... no, I don't need room service, I can walk fine ... you should give him one of the red ones in his food tonight, and another in the morning dish, yes... it's good to hear from you. Ray - is there any word ...?" Ben's face fell. "I understand ... no, I know, you're looking ... it's okay, Ray, really. I'm meeting people, enjoying the visit here ... yes I miss Chicago. It won't be that long, I'm sure. OK - good-bye, enjoy your Sunday."

He handed me back the phone and I hung it up for him. He looked down. "Bad news?"

He kind of shook himself. "No, not really. More like an absence of good news. They're trying to find out who Mr. Warfield hired to 'take me out', I believe the expression is. Ray had been hopeful they were getting close, but unfortunately the lead was no good."

"He worries about you."

"And I him. All the time. That's the worst part about being here - he's got no partner so he either has to work with another pair, or on his own."

"And you want to be watching his back."

"You know what it's like?"

"Yeah. I don't know what's worse - watching some one you love get the crap kicked out of them, or not being there to watch."

"Ray is rather good at not getting the 'crap' kicked out of him, but he does take some extraordinary risks sometimes. You know he drove a motorcycle through a window once to save a friend and me? And he's jumped through I don't know how many other windows...."

"To save you?"

"Why yes, now you come to mention it. He's very protective of me - right from the day we met, I told you."

"Do you think it's possible that he feels more than just protective about you?"

He looked at me with pain in his eyes. "That's more than I dare to hope for, Angel - and I can't be the one to make the first move. I can't lose his friendship. Not simply for the possibility of a sexual relationship."

"Maybe he feels the same way."

"Possibly." He didn't want to say more than that, I could see.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

"Good - and sore." He pulled me to him for a kiss. "Thank you for last night. I really needed it. And thank you for staying."

I held him briefly, then helped him sit. "My pleasure, Ben."

"Would you like breakfast?"

"I don't eat ..."

"Coffee at least?"

Decent coffee was too good to turn down after what I've been putting up with at the office so I let him order me some. "Your physiology seems rather curious, if you don't mind me saying so - you don't eat, but you do drink fluids other than blood. Your heart doesn't beat but you do bleed. Has anyone made a study of your kind to see how you operate, so to speak?"

"The people who study vampires only want to know how to kill them."

"So the non-lethal kind of vampire is rather rare?"

"I'm the only one so far as I know - so just don't be sitting in any more city parks in this town at night. The place is crawling with vamps, demons - you name it, we got it."

"Hence your concern for my actions."

"You bet. Ben, you don't know what a temptation you are."

"I think I have some idea," he said dryly. "Although I'm usually fending off human, if still dangerous predators."

We drank our coffee and then it was time for me to leave. It was awkward.  I guessed I wouldn't see him again - but I was fond of him even after such a short acquaintance. I put my hand out but he wanted more, gave me a hug and a farewell kiss that sent tingles down to my toes.

"I hope you and Ray can work things out, Ben."

He let me go. "I suspect that in his present environment, that won't happen. If I could ever get him to Canada, we might have a chance. But there is no prospect of that at the moment. I don't even know when I'll be going back to Chicago."

"Well, you got a friend here if you need one."

"And you, should you come to Chicago. Thanks for the warnings - I shall find safer means of exercising."

"You better - because the only vampire I want sucking on you is me."

He grinned at the dirty remark, and I went out the door. He gave me a wave as I walked down the hall.

I am a creature of the darkness, and that's where I work, and where I live. But just for a few hours more, I wanted to carry Ben Fraser's light with me, and think about last night. I hoped Ray would wake up and smell the roses real soon. I'd had the merest taste of Ben and it was good. Ray could have the whole deal any time he wanted.

I realized, sitting in my rooms that night, that Doyle had given me something even more than his life - if I had never known him, never been made to care about the people I tried to help, I would never have been with Ben. Maybe it was about time me and the human race got to know each other again.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written nearly twenty years ago under another pseudonym. It hasn't been revised (or reread by me) since then.
> 
> I am posting this and my other stories from this period purely so people can read them if they choose. I won't be reading comments, and don't care if you leave kudos. I'm dumping them and running.
> 
> Having said that, I worked hard on them, and I hope they still entertain someone out there.


End file.
